


Better the Fiend You Know...

by MimikoFlamemaker



Series: Of Monsters and Men [3]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Angst, Another ordinary day in the Witcher universe, Emotional Hurt, Friendship, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-12
Updated: 2019-08-30
Packaged: 2019-10-26 21:27:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 16,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17753780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MimikoFlamemaker/pseuds/MimikoFlamemaker
Summary: ...or maybe not? Neve, Geralt and Vesemir arrive to Vorune, only to find out that the prowling beast is the last of the town’s issues





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Nie Taki Bies Straszny...](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17753267) by [MimikoFlamemaker](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MimikoFlamemaker/pseuds/MimikoFlamemaker). 



I

Geralt was inclined to believe, that after so many years spent on the path, there weren’t many things that could still surprise him. He saw people acting like monsters and monsters acting better than humans, however rare a feat that was. He saw thoughtless cruelty of war and the feats of valor he did not hope to witness in places that were so similar to this.

Velen. The No Man’s Land. The armies of both, Redania and Nilfgaard had marched across the area more than once, leaving it pillaged from everything that wasn’t quite literally nailed to the floor. It seemed that the only thing that hadn’t suffered because of wandering armies were sprawling, marshy forests that covered the majority of the area. And they were now filled with monsters and swollen, decaying corpses.

They were bound to find an abundance of work here, even for two witchers. Geralt wasn’t so sure about the coin coming in with the contracts, but it wouldn’t be a first year he would spent on toiling away on small jobs, just to keep his stomach full and his swords sharp.

The first thing they met in Velen were not even monsters or people, but a pack of half-starved, half-rabid dogs that were desperate enough to attack the three of them.

Neve shoot half of the hounds, without moving from her saddle, not at all bothered by her panicked horse dancing beneath her. Geralt never thought he had any reason to feel self-conscious about his riding skills, but the way she rode made him question that belief.

As it turned out, his companion also had some skill when it came to talk with haughty, frightened villagers that wanted nothing to do with a bunch of armed strangers. As a result, they much more often slept in inns or in someone’s barn than on the cold, muddy ground.

He found such outcome to be difficult to complain about, even if, more often than not, the initial arrangement included them hunting for drowners at the banks of some murky pond or clearing out the nest of nekkers so the people could continue to harvest the firewood in peace. He still much preferred waking up in a barn smelling of fresh hay and horses than underneath a wet blanket, half drowned by the muddy water.

Today however, the weather was on their side. The sky was still clouded, but they well at least spared the rain. And they managed to find a decent place for a camp – a windthrow, surprisingly dry and wide enough for the two of them to sleep beneath it comfortably, while the third kept watch.

When Geralt returned to the camp, carrying three hares he was lucky to hunt, he wasn’t expecting to finds his companions once again engrossed in discussion.

Or rather, a lesson.

Neve and Vesemir were sitting by the fire and seemed to be unaware, or simply unconcerned with his presence. On the ground between them stood several, glass vials. The elleth made a habit of watching them whenever they brewed some potions and Vesemir, guided probably by the force of habit, started to walk her through the process and the recipes. A knowledge which Neve seemed to be eagerly accepting.

Now, he lifted one of the vials and handed it to the elleth.

Neve took the phial and turned it in her palm, watching the sloshing contents against the light. A quick grin bloomed on her lips.

‘A Swallow’ she announced. ‘Used to speed up your witcher metabolism and promote the regeneration of tissue. Not overly toxic by your standards, but still not suitable to treat humans.’

‘And you know this without sniffing it first?’ Vesemir didn’t appear irritated. Curious, rather.

‘Celandine leaves a yellowish, oily residue on the glass’ Neve explained, tapping her nail against the bottle.

‘I knew it will be too simple a question’ the old witcher muttered, looking over the vials standing in front of him. ‘What about this one?’

Geralt approached the fire and sat down to take care of the hares. The elleth glanced at him briefly, before focusing back on her potion. The task was obviously more difficult right now, because she carefully observed the contents of the bottle first and then she pulled the cork out and cautiously sniffed the mixture.

Geralt couldn’t help but smile at the grimace that twisted her features. Regardless, Neve brought the vial to her nose again, taking another whiff.

‘A Black Blood’ she finally said. ‘That earthy, choking stink is coming from Sewant Mushrooms. Who would have thought that fungi can stink so much… Never mind. After consumption, your blood becomes toxic to creatures that might have a desire to feed on it. Like vampires… Not that much of a good idea for a hunt, if you ask me.’

Vesemir sighed. Geralt smiled just a bit wider, not looking up from skinning the hares. This time however, the older witcher noticed.

‘If you had been studying these things as eagerly as Neve does, I wouldn’t have so much grey hair so early’ he chided, thought it was obvious that his mind went back to the times long past, before he focused back on the elleth.

‘Some hunts require special preparations’ he explained. ‘Vampires for example, are not only particularly strong and fast, but they can also use illusion thanks to which they can appear to be invisible. Due to that, it is good to have something to fall back on, in case of a surprise attack…’

‘And that something is almost as bad for you as it is for those creatures you hunt’ Neve interrupted, putting the bottle away.

‘That’s why we use it only as the last resort measure…’

The elleth pursed her lips, placing her palms against her folded knees. Despite spending the last month listening to the long, detailed lectures Vesemir had for her about the witchers and their constitution, their companion still retained some certain opinions about a number of their practices. Geralt had no doubt that they mostly came from the long hours spent on studying plants and their properties.

Neve certainly wasn’t the first healer he met, that cringed at the mere mention of their potions and tinctures.

‘Well, it only means, that your survival instinct isn’t as dead as your… creators have intended it to be’ the elleth said. ‘And it doesn’t change the fact that most ingredients you are using in your decoctions is poisonous…’

‘Mutations’ Geralt interrupted her. ‘They amplify our tolerance for toxins and potions…’

Neve glared at him, her mouth thinning into a stubborn line.

‘And for other, similarly unpleasant side effects of your trade it would seem. Which, if I understand correctly, does not mean that those potions are completely safe for you either. Berbercane fruits for example? They elevate the pulse and heart rate. Enough, that if the grown man eats three berries, even Melitele won’t save him from the untimely, unpleasant end. Hellebore petals? Make a very fine purple dye – too bad that even a drop of its juice on the bare arm causes the formation of very painful blisters filled with either liquid or puss. I’ve heard of people whose skin quite literally peeled off… Oh and nostrix? Eat any bit of it and you are as good as dead, because your respiratory system will give up to paralysis.

‘Those are all effects those plants have on humans’ Vesemir reminded her. ‘Not witchers.’

The elleth shook her head, raising her arms in a way that clearly indicated she did not to wish to continue this conversation.

‘I firmly believe that we are not as different from one another as some might like to think’ she said, pushing herself off the ground. ‘Elves and humans can breed just fine’ she gestured over herself, ignoring the discomfort, plain in their faces. ‘And the witchers and humans at least bleed the same amount, from what I was able to notice’ she put her hand through her hair, unwinding the braids that kept the strands pulled away from her face. ‘We passed a stream before we came here… and I do need a few minutes to myself right now’ she went over to her saddle bags, pulling out a fresh shirt and a clean pair of trousers with a lot more force than was necessary. ‘If something pounce at me from the bushes, I’ll make sure to start screaming.’

With that she turned on her heel and stalked away. Geralt quickly realized that he wasn’t the only one watching her retreating back.

‘What did you say she was doing before she became a mercenary?’ Vesemir asked looking at him over the fire.

‘I said that she doesn’t talk much about it’ Geralt shrugged. ‘She said that she was born in a scoia’tael commando and that she chose her own path after it was destroyed. This is how she had ended up in the Temple of Melitele and later in Mohar’s company and finally back in Ellander, when we’ve met.’

‘But you do not trust her.’

‘It’s not like that’ the white haired witcher shook his head. ‘Her skills shows that she is telling the truth, to some degree. It’s the fact that I can’t tell when she doesn’t that… troubles me a little.’

‘No offence Geralt, but you were never very apt at reading people’ Vesemir replied. ‘I would rather focus on the fact that she helped you, wanting nothing but your company in return. It doesn’t happen to us often. And I don’t think that she has any ill intentions’ the old witcher added. ‘But I’m sure that something is troubling her.’

‘Might be Alven…’

‘Another thing you didn’t tell me about?’

‘I didn’t say anything, because I am guessing here myself. Neve acts like nothing had happened… And the truth is, that when she broke me out from the count’s castle, her lifelong partner died to buy us a little more time. And she was right there to watch it…’

‘And you decided that it is better to just let it go?’

‘What? No. I apologized to her… or rather, I tried. I am not going to press the matters if she either shuts me off or immediately changes the subject.’

‘Geralt I thought that after so many years, you would have finally come to the conclusion that not all women are like Yennefer.’

‘What was that supposed to mean?’

Vesemir looked into the fire, grabbing a few pieces of wood from the stack and throwing it over the flames. He shook his head.

‘I didn’t think that you would have to ask.’

Geralt sighed, but didn’t respond. After a moment he realized, that he was listening intently. Not to the sounds around the camp, but focusing on the further part of the forest and the spot where the distant murmur of the creak came from.


	2. Chapter 2

II

Neve shot up from the pallet, feeling her damp shirt clinging to her skin and a cold trickle of sweat running down her back. She looked around, frantic, fisting her hand into the fabric of her blouse and trying to calm down the wild fluttering in her chest.

Without much success. When she tried to pull some air into her lungs, she only felt pain as something squeezed around her ribcage.

She was in the small, attic room their current host have offered her. It wasn’t what she expected, or even wanted after she treated a sprained ankle of his oldest daughter, but the farmer and his wife insisted. Not wishing to offend them, she finally took her things and climbed the narrow ladder into her sleeping space.

And now she was alone. The only sound breaking the silence was that of the wind, whistling softly under the thatched roof and her own, strained breathing.

She threw the blanket aside and rose, reaching for her trousers and sword, dropped carelessly on the floor before she retired. She couldn’t shake off the impression that the roof was about to collapse and bury her under the mountain of straw and broken rafters. She needed some air. She slid down the ladder, with much less grace than she was used to and the tiptoed through the common room, opening the door as quietly as she could before slipping outside.

The wind blew from the direction of the forest and marshes cradling the small village from the north. The air was cold and damp, as always between the periods of rain, but when she glanced up, the cover of clouds were broken in few places and she could glimpse some faint stars and the thin crescent of the moon.

She fell against the wall and closed her eyes, listening to her own heart still fluttering in her chest. After what she had just woke up from, instead of relief, she only felt a burning, bitter shame.

‘It’s not the nicest night to be out like that. You will catch a chill.’

Neve flinched so hard, she almost felt the tendon in her neck snap as she whipped her head towards the voice.

Vesemir was sitting on the low bench placed beneath one of the windows. If he hadn’t spoken, she probably wouldn’t have noticed him at all. When he turned to face her, his eyes flashed in the darkness, catching what little light the night had to offer.

Cat’s eyes. She realized they weren’t nearly as unsettling as they seemed to be back at count’s Visse dungeons. It seemed that she was getting used to them.

Neve straightened and folded her arms across her chest. She could feel the sweat evaporating from her skin, leaving behind a distinct chill, but she didn’t care.

‘As long as it isn’t waking up on the frozen ground, the cold never bothered me much…’ the elleth trailed off, her brows pulling into a frown. ‘And you? What are you doing outside? It’s the middle of the night.’

Vesemir smiled, motioning for her to come and sit next to him.

‘Old people tend to have trouble with sleeping. Turns out, old witchers do have them too. I went outside to have a few breaths of a fresh air… and then I heard you waking up so I stayed to see if everything is all right.’

Neve took a few steps towards him, but then she stopped, clearly shocked.

‘You’ve heard me waking up?’

Vesemir quirked an eyebrow at her question, but seemed amused rather than irritated.

‘Geralt still doesn’t talk about how much the mutations actually change the witchers, doesn’t he?’ he asked in turn. ‘I thought he would grow past that with age… Our senses are permanently sharpened Neve, not only for the time of hunting or after drinking a potion. Though those can sharpen them even more. We are talking right now, but I can hear Geralt’s heart in the barn. I hear the cat stalking a mouse near him. I can hear the hearts of our host, his wife and all five of his children. And I can hear yours.’

Neve felt herself stiffening at the revelation. She also felt her heart speeding up again, despite her desperate, clawing need to put it under control.

‘You can hear my heart?’ she heard herself asking, not really sure how she felt about that newly acquired knowledge.

She could control the expression on her face, the tone of her voice, the way she moved. She commanded every aspect of her outside expression to the point where she could easily manipulate most people she met. Thanks to that, she could survive without resolving to other, typically much harsher methods. It was both her shield and her weapon. But her heart and thoughts weren’t something she could completely control. Traitorous things she kept locked in the deepest corners of her mind out of fear that, if brought to light, they would expose her weaknesses.

That’s why she made a habit of avoiding sorcerers whenever she could. She heard that some could read one’s mind without even trying and others had spells for that. Awfully painful spells, if the tales were anything to go by. And she didn’t want to risk annoying some mage enough to fall victim to this kind of magic.

And now, she was suddenly aware that the witchers could hear her every breath and every heartbeat. She felt as if something was torn away from her, leaving her bare and vulnerable in the ways she hadn’t felt in a very, very long time.

And she hated every second of it.

Next thing she was aware off, was a solid wood of the bench beneath her tights and a hand under her chin. Vesemir was crouched in front of her, one hand locked gently around her wrist and the other pushing her chin up so she could face him.

‘Look at me Neve’ he commanded gently. ‘Your heart is beating too fast. It has to slow down… Try to breathe. Slow, deep breaths…’

She had a scathing remark dancing at the tip of her tongue, but when she tried to vocalize it, the only sound that came out was a wheezing cough. She sucked in another breath, still fighting the unrepentant tightness in her chest. Then another. She squeezed her eyes shut and breathed, feeling the nails of her free hand dig into the wood.

‘Good’ came another, soft encouragement. ‘Keep breathing…’

Neve felt her mouth bowing into a bitter smile, though she remained quiet.

After a few more moments, Vesemir released her wrist and sighed.

‘You should be fine now’ he said, pushing himself up and sitting next to the elleth. ‘I’m sorry, Neve…’

His companion leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees and cradling her fingers through her hair. Except for a frustrated groan, she made no sound.

‘I didn’t think such a simple revelation might be this… unsettling to you. But you are someone geared towards survival and I see now how this might have been…’

‘Pathetic…’ she muttered without looking up at him.

‘What is?’ he ventured gently, hoping it will coax her into speaking. After all she couldn’t spat at him any venom other than a verbal one and he was well and truly used to that at this point.

‘This…’ she raised one of her hands painting some vague lines in the air.

Vesemir didn’t think himself to be best equipped to offer her comfort right now, but there wasn’t much else he could do.

She flinched when he rested his hand on her bent back.

‘You are not’ he said at length. ‘You perceived that revelation as a threat. It was a natural fear response. Nothing more and nothing else. There is nothing to be ashamed of…’

Neve leaned back and propped herself against the wall. He could see her throat working as if unwilling to let the words out. When she turned her head to glance at him her eyes were bright in the dim light, despite the disproportionately blown pupils.

Elven blood, his mind noted without his consent.

‘Oh, but there is’ she finally squeezed out, the same, bitter smile curling the corner of her lips. ‘If I can’t control myself, then I can’t control anything else. And if I stumble, I am dead; simple as that…’

A strange look passed over his face, before she could decipher it. But she was very aware of the moment when his hand closed around her palm.

Her hands lost their softness quite some time ago, covered in calloused and scars in places where the bowstring cut too often and too deeply into her fingers. She was no stranger to the rough hands and a rough touch.

Vesemir’s hand on hers was weathered a lot more than her own was, but it wasn’t rough. It was a simple, comforting gesture and she ground her teeth together against the returning tightness in her throat.

Gods, she had to get her act back together quickly. Whatever he said, all of this was rather pathetic.

‘As long as we are around nothing is going to happen to you’ Vesemir said, derailing her thoughts again.

The scathing laugh did sound more like something she was used to hear. She did have a decency to shoot Vesemir an apologetic glance. And enough presence of mind to know, that he didn’t deserve her scorn.

It wasn’t his fault that her life was collapsing around her.

Or better yet, already lying at her feet in a smoldering heap.

‘We won’t be travelling together forever though’ she remarked, pushing the thought aside.

‘Then I would make sure to use this time to get a hold of whatever it is that troubles you’ came a reply. ‘You survived a lot already. I am sure you will continue to do so.’

It wasn’t what she expected to hear. But it did make her feel a little better.

‘Good point’ she muttered, casting a glance around the dark courtyard.

Vesemir gave her hand another gentle squeeze and let her go. Silence settled between them, but it wasn’t heavy and Neve didn’t feel the need to fill it with words.

‘Want to tell me what the dream was about?’

‘Not really…’ she shrugged. ‘I am no stranger to guilt; I will crawl back out in time. I would really like to crack some skulls and unwind. Though, with you two around, it’s not all that easy to do…’

Vesemir’s mouth curled slightly.

‘I think we can arrange something else’ he said. ‘If you behave, I might even allow you to land a hit or two.’

Neve felt her lips stretching just a little bit wider.

‘And you are not going to just smack me with the flat side of your blade all over again?’

The witcher rose from the bench with much more grace than what she usually expected from men that were half his age.

Then, she reminded herself that men didn’t even get to live that long and for some reason, the notion caused her to smile again.

She was clearly going insane. Considering how long she had lasted, it was a prime time to finally snap.

‘If you prove to be able to handle any more than that’ Vesemir’s voice interrupted her thoughts.

The elleth shook her head and joined him, leaving the farmyard and heading towards the dark forest.

‘Bring it.’


	3. Chapter 3

III

Neve was fairly certain that Vorune gained the title of a city only because the hamlets surrounding it were either, barely three huts thrown together, or half burned to the ground by the passing armies.

Vorune did have something of a town hall though, built from an actual brick, its red walls sitting in the stark contrast against the bleak countryside. Maybe there was a time, when the town did not appear like everything was falling apart and the air wasn’t filled with a rotten stink that made her cringe. She wondered how much worse it was for her companions’ heightened sense of smell.

Unless it was already blunted by years of hunting zeugls that is.

As they trudged down the muddy, main road towards the town hall it was impossible not to notice a banner, hanging from the window on the first floor.

Golden sun on a black background. Thus far, they managed to avoid nilfgaardian military outposts, but it seemed that this time it won’t be possible.

Neve worked both, on the nilfgaardian grounds and for the Empire itself, and it has never bothered her much. As long as the pay was proportional to the completed task, she wasn’t going to bite the hand that fed her, no matter where it came from.

Her companions however, seemed not to share her sentiment. Especially Geralt grew more and more tense, the closer they got to the building. At least it seemed to be keeping the townspeople at bay. The townspeople who, judging by the few, cursory glances she shot their way, were just as malnourished and angry as in any other place she had seen so far.

Her musings were interrupted by a scream. A sound clearly made by someone who was currently in quite a lot of pain. As they stopped and simply watched, uncertain if it was safe to approach, the door to the building burst open. A woman, dark eyes frantic and black hair slipping from beneath the white cap she wore looked momentarily stunned by the presence of the three riders, but she quickly shook herself off and sprinted in the opposite direction, towards the low hill where several white tents were erected, protected by a palisade and a watch tower. Neve could see an archer, perched on top of it.

When she turned her attention back to the two witchers, she was surprised to see Geralt’s hand still hovering near the hilt of his sword.

‘I assure you, whoever just screamed is currently completely harmless’ she told him. ‘I am also fairly certain that the voice belonged to a human’ she offered him a sly smile when his hand fell back to the reins. ‘No need for your witcher sword just yet’

Geralt shot her a thoroughly unamused glare.

‘And a prime time for your healing touch?’

The elleth’s grin turned sharper.

‘Testy, aren’t we?’ she teased. ‘Not sure until I see him, but if a person screams like that, a dagger might be a more merciful offering’ she nudged her horse forward and, after a few steps, turned to look at the witchers. ‘You are still coming aren’t you?’

They tied their horses outside, before ascending a few, stone steps. Neve glanced over her shoulder briefly, but she figured that, if the fact that the other two horses belonged to the witchers won’t keep the potential thieves at bay than her staying to keep watch certainly won’t do that either.

The door opened to the narrow corridor with the set of equally narrow steps leading to the upper floor. Two guards sitting on the bench placed near one of the walls stood up instantly, but instead of coming towards them, they regarded them carefully and started to whisper between each other. Neve perked her ears and listened, pretending that she is looking around curiously.

There was another scream, but it was quieter and more akin to a pained groan. Maybe the pain medication was kicking in.

Vesemir took a step forward, pointing to the medallion hanging at his breast.

‘You know what this means. We want to speak to your captain about the monster hunting this area’ the witcher said, causing the guards to look between each other again.

‘Witchers’ said the taller of the men, his accent heavy on his tongue. ‘Of course. Follow me; captain Thurn will want to speak with you.’

‘And the woman?’ asked another, his voice even thicker.

Neve felt Geralt’s arm wrapping around her shoulders, his hand closing gently around her forearm.

‘She is with us’ his tone was dry and dismissive. ‘She is coming inside as well.’

Neither of the guards was willing to question him any further. As much as Neve appreciated the help, she also had to fight off an urge to pinch the witcher as he kept her wrapped in a loose embrace while they walked. She was no wilting flower. But apparently, a single drowner was not enough of a proof.

The room they were led into was spacious, fitted with a blazing fireplace on one wall, the line of windows on the other and a large table standing in the middle of it. Neve spotted a large map pushed into a far corner of the room and took a quick notice of the markers littering it.

The table was stacked with various papers, she couldn’t read from this angle. Someone was clearly just learning how to write. Behind the table sat a black hired man, shorter than both Vesemir and Geralt. Shorter even than her, but when he rose from his seat, it became obvious that he was stocky and broad shouldered. Neve was ready to bet, that in combat he favored axes. Or, maybe, battle hammers. When he looked up at them, she was instantly drawn to the ugly scar, disfiguring his cheek.

‘Captain Drugan aep Thurn’ he said with a nod. His common was much better than the guards’ that led them in. ‘What can I do for you, witchers?’ he asked, not even sparing her a passing glance.

It would be a lie, if she said that she did not enjoy being the invisible one.

It gave her the time to listen. And to judge.

‘While on the road’ began Vesemir, ‘we heard rumors of a beast that plagues the area, the city and its citizens. Judging by the tale it is a fiend, though further investigations will be needed. We are willing to solve the problem, if you are willing to pay.’

For a moment there was no response as the nilfgaardian watched them. Neve watched him as well, making sure she wasn’t too obvious about it. Something was off. He was the first person who didn’t seem to be disturbed by their presence. Or pissed off at the mere mention of the money.

The captain sat down, folding his hands on the table. There was no other chair in the room.

‘I am afraid that you have been tricked then. We do not have a monster problem.’

He was good. There was barely a crease in his expression and absolutely no change in the way he spoke. But, lying since birth, Neve was better. She knew he wasn’t telling the truth.

‘Forgive me my curiosity’ Drugan continued. ‘But I never heard of witchers traveling in pairs; much less a broader company…’

‘A fiend is a though, large beast’ Neve quickly cut in. If he was lying like that, then there was no reason to reveal the true motives of their travel and she didn’t want to wait until one of her companions will try to come up with an excuse. She saw how well that ended the last time. ‘Two witchers will made an easier job out of it, than just one.’

That, finally, had given her his full attention. She met it with the carefully measured, blank expression, getting a few more seconds to seize up, who she was actually dealing with.

‘I am aware that there are no female witchers’ he said, looking her over. ‘It makes me wonder what you are doing here. And who are you?’

‘A travelling healer’ she replied. ‘My name is Neve. I have been attacked by drowners and those two saved me from a gruesome and untimely demise.’

‘A nobble deed’ the captain nodded, faking the approval rather well. ‘But I still don’t understand what possessed you to travel alone through the land as dangerous as Velen?’

‘Not many places better to find some use for my skills.’

‘And what are those skills?’

‘Pretty much everything that once fell into the expertise of Melitele priestesses… We are here however, to discuss the beast problem. We can postpone the discussion about my abilities for another time.’

She thought that it would at least throw him off a little, but there was no change in the gentle curiosity painting his features. People like those scared her more than a freak with a sword.

Something was definitely off.

‘As I said, we do not have problems with monsters in Vorune’ the captain repeated, looking at the two witchers again. ‘If you insist though, feel free to ask around, see if you can find something out. Villagers, unfortunately, don’t inform us about everything that troubles them.’

Neve wasn’t surprised. Not only Nilfgaard came and ruined their simple, but organized lives, throwing them into poverty and hunger, but the very personality of captain Drugan turned her off from telling him anything. Unless prompted by a hot iron.

‘And should you find anything and provide some substantial evidence to your findings, we shall discuss the process of dealing with the problem and the payment.’

‘Agreed’ Geralt said, before she could reply and Neve wanted to kick him. He just gave the captain exactly what he wanted – a free pair of hands to work with. Or rather two.

‘Perfect’ the man smiled. ‘If you find anything, come to me immediately’ his eyes returned to the elleth, sharp and judging. ‘Now, have you ever treated soldiers?’

‘Soldiers, mercenaries, travelling knights…’ witchers, she mused, though she didn’t say it out loud. ‘Everything from cuts and broken bones to arrow wounds. I spent most of my career as a healer treating those kinds of injuries.’

‘Good’ Drugan nodded. ‘I have only one healer in my garrison and she is running a bit rugged. This lands can be very dangerous, if someone is not careful enough. I could offer you a place to stay, provided that you would be willing to work…’

‘I am no stranger to work, hard or otherwise. Provided that I’ll be compensated for my efforts.’

No self-respecting mercenary would work for free and they both knew that. And Neve knew that she could easily find a place where they would pay her, if he won’t.

‘Twice the pay of a regular soldier; good healers are hard to come by in places like this. Maybe a little extra if you prove yourself. When can you start?’

Now, that was a quick deal. And a decent one. If her gut wasn’t telling her that something was wrong, she would have shaken his hand instantly.

‘I’ve been on a road for over a week now and haven’t had the chance to eat or bathe properly’ she said, having the heavy scent of horses, leather and sweat on her side. ‘I can be back at your office first thing tomorrow morning’ she added, forgoing his title again.

‘Very well’ he said and the look on his face told her, that at least in this, he saw right through her. ‘We’ll see each other tomorrow then. Now if you please’ he stood up and gestured for the door. ‘I have some matters to attend to…’

Captain Thurn walked with them to the entrance, opening the door so she could come through first. A gesture as fake as every inch of what he was showing them so far. She nodded at him, but couldn’t bring herself to offer anything more than a tight-lipped smile.

‘If you need a place to stay, go to the inn and tell the innkeeper that I’ve sent you’ he said, glancing at her again. ‘He won’t charge you for the rooms at least.’

‘Thank you, but there is no need for that… What the…?’ Neve trailed off, not bothering to cut on the following curse, when she saw someone rummaging through her saddlebags. ‘Hey!’

There was a squeak and the thief – whose feet now barely touched the ground – jumped away from her horse and bolted, diving under the fence and across the meadow, towards the forest.

Neve felt herself moving, before even the witchers could. She jumped from the stairs, ran across the fence as easily as if she was running on the flat ground and jumped into the tall grass, catching up with the thief in a few, long strides.

There was a blink of thought in her mind, telling her that she just exposed too much. The nilfgaardian surely thought that she did not tell him the whole truth and now he had a proof.

There was another squeak when she sized the thief by the neck and pulled him up.

She crossed her gaze with a pair of large, fearful blue eyes.

The boy couldn’t be more than ten.

‘What were you thinking?’ she asked, exasperated rather than angry, setting him back on the ground and pushing him towards the road. He was just caught stealing right under the nose of a nilfgaardian captain. And she knew what was the imperial punishment for stealing.

‘Ple… please m’lady’ the boy stuttered. ‘It’s… it’s my sister. She’s…’

That gave the elleth a pause.

‘So you weren’t after the money?’ she asked, only loud enough for him to hear.

The boy shook his head quickly.

‘No! My… my sister is sick and I heard someone saying that you are a healer… so I thought…’

‘Hush’ she told him quickly. ‘And don’t speak unless I address you. Got it?’

She saw the boy nod, before turning her attention back to the three men observing her. The thinly veiled amusement on the captain’s face twisted something in her gut.

‘Baltt’ the captain addressed, staring at the boy. ‘I thought you won’t show your face again after we caught you the last time. Didn’t you get enough of a lesson?’

The boy flinched and swallowed thickly. Neve knew, that if she would only look down the boy’s collar, she would see the marks left after the “lesson” he received.

But Drugan was looking at her now and she had to give him her full attention, as long as she didn’t know what he was playing at.

‘My apologies’ the man nodded at her. ‘I really thought that he had learned something after all’ he sighed heavily and shook his head. ‘I’ll see to it, that this time he will be punished accordingly to nilfgaardian law.’

She could feel the boy twitch. She took a step to the side, allowing him to hide behind her hip.

‘I don’t believe that would be necessary.’

‘And I don’t believe you understand. The law is clear; a flogging for the first offence and a rope for a second.’

‘I know that law very well, but there was no second offence’ Neve said, barely keeping herself from sneering. ‘The boy stole nothing. And you cannot honestly think to punish a child for wanting to help his sick sister?’ she added just a bit louder, noticing the pheasants that had already gathered to observe the scene.

Not that she actually expected him to care about the opinion of the villagers. Or them to intervene.

‘Besides, if I am to work properly, I will need an errand boy. I saw your healer running back to the camp; likely for something she had forgotten to bring. He will get a chance to repay his insolence and maybe learn some proper discipline.’

It was a long shot, supported only by her hope that he wanted to keep whatever he was hiding a secret more than he wanted to murder a random boy.

‘If you say so…’ he finally conceded, but she could see that she kicked exactly where it hurt. ‘You will be responsible for feeding and paying him. And if he steals something again, that will be on your head too.’

He tried to scare her that much was obvious.

Neve smiled, and bowed her head.

‘Who said anything about the payment?’ she asked. ‘He should feel lucky as he is. And I am sure that he will behave, won’t you boy?’

‘Yes, m’lady!’ Baltt breathed, nodding fervently. ‘I’ll behave, I’ll behave…’

‘That settles it then’ Drugan said, sounding almost bored. ‘The inn is that way, you can’t miss it. Just remember that you are to be back here early tomorrow.’

‘Of course. Thank you, captain’ Neve bowed again, hoping that this will somehow soften the blow.

She looked up again, only when she heard the door falling shut. Another close call. She had been getting quite a lot of those lately.

She shook her head, bringing her attention back to the boy standing beside her. She wondered if he really knew how lucky he got today.

‘Now come, show me where you live’ she said pushing him gently towards the fence, before looking back at the two witchers, a bit irked by their ever neutral expressions. Reading them was like trying to get through a book while knowing maybe three words of the language it was written in.

‘Go to the inn, and get us a room for the night, please’ she asked looking at Geralt. ‘Tell the innkeeper that I will pay for the expenses as soon as I get there.

‘And where are you going now?’

‘To be a decent person for a bit’ she replied, grabbing Baltt around the waist and seating him on the saddle. ‘I’ll be back as soon as I can.’

‘Don’t you think that we should talk first?’

‘Not sure how much time the girl has. But we have plenty and I think it can wait until the evening. Just don’t use the captain favor when you get there.’

Geralt looked at her, ready to ask for further explanations, but Vesemir just clapped him on the shoulder, pointing up the muddy road with a nod. Neve smiled at the older witcher, grabbed her mare by the reins and turned in the opposite direction.


	4. Chapter 4

IV

Geralt was pacing. The common room of the tavern was empty save the two of them and the miffed innkeeper, who at his point probably thought that they are going to leave without paying for the dinner and beer they have ordered.

The patrons were few and they filed out shortly after sunset – a curious thing considering that there was not much else they could do to kill time in a place like this.

As it was, the sun has set about two hours ago, they were sitting over empty tankards and Neve had yet to appear.

And Geralt was pacing.

‘Do you want to go look for her?’ Vesemir asked. He thought it was unnecessary and that their companion will return as she promised, but clearly, her assurances weren’t enough for the younger witcher.

Geralt stopped and turned to face him.

With a loud screech of unoiled hinges, the door were pushed open. Neve appeared in the doorframe, dragging in her saddle bags. She glanced their way briefly, before stepping out again and returning with the large, wooden chest parked against her hip.

‘I believe, I owe you some money’ she addressed the innkeeper with a smile that softened the frown etched into his face.

She conversed with the man quietly for a few moments, before finally turning around and approaching the table they claimed for themselves.

‘Dark, far end corner?’ she mused, sitting beside Vesemir. ‘You really don’t make it any easier for those people to like you…’

‘More like a solid wall behind our back and a view of the entire room’ Vesemir replied. ‘And we are bound by our trade. People’s sympathy is irrelevant.’

Never pursed her lips, her eyes briefly flicking to Geralt.

‘If you say so…’

The innkeeper came, carrying two plates and three, full tankards. He didn’t grimace when he looked at them. He even offered Neve a tight smile. One that was rewarded with a few more coins falling into his hand.

Neve reached for the plate filled with assorted cold meats and cheese, grabbed a piece of bread and started eating.

‘So, where have you been?’ Geralt asked, sharing a glance with Vesemir.

The elleth washed the bite she was chewing on with some beer. Cold pork often turned rubbery, but she wasn’t about to complain as long as she wasn’t going to sleep hungry.

‘The boy’s kid sister has a serious case of croup. It’s a wonder that she is still breathing with all this humidity… poor thing’ she picked up a piece of cheese and popped it into her mouth. ‘I will have to go and see her in two, maybe three days to make sure she is getting better. Then, there was a woman with a broken wrist, a lumberjack with a crushed foot and several others. I haven’t even noticed the sunset’ the elleth shrugged. ‘It’s good to see that you didn’t take the captain on his offer…’

‘You told us not to.’

‘Is it really that simple with the witchers, then?’ she flashed Geralt a quick smile. ‘Captain Drugan is a fishy asshole, who very plainly doesn’t want to tell us something. It’s more than enough that you allowed him to rope you into tracking the monster…’

‘We would have to do this anyway…’

Neve perked an eyebrow, utterly unimpressed with his reasoning.

‘You do realize that tracking is a skill people get paid for, don’t you?’

Geralt sighed and rubbed his forehead.

‘If I wouldn’t agree he would have sent us away. Why do you care anyway? You landed yourself a decent job…’

Neve’s lips curled back, baring teeth.

‘What the fuck is your problem?’ she sneered. ‘I took the job because I need it. My coin purse isn’t bottomless and I need every chance I get to fill it up. And if that includes taking a contract from someone who makes my skin crawl, then so be it. I am not picky. I thought that witchers aren’t either…’

A heavy hand came to rest on her shoulder, silencing any further complaints.

‘Enough of that. Both of you’ Vesemir said, glancing between them.

Neve muttered something to herself in the elder speech, glancing into the contents of her tankard.

Geralt however seemed to be far from done.

‘I just don’t get that. First, you go and make a deal with a commander of a nilfgaardian garrison and then you spent the evening helping the very people he oppresses as if nothing had happened…’

The elleth scoffed, taking a sip of her beer.

‘It’s less complicated than you think. You are a witcher though; you are probably a little out of touch with the sort of life normal people lead…’

‘Not many people build their lives on lies and deception…’

‘Would you look at that? The witcher Geralt, paragon of morality’ Neve’s face pulled into an angry scowl. ‘Too bad that you don’t know shit about what you are so valiantly trying to explain. The villagers already expect me to be working with the soldiers. Nilfgaard takes everything away from them, so why not a travelling healer? That’s why I made an effort and went out to them first. And I will continue to do so, to ensure that they will see me as trustworthy regardless of how I’ll spend my mornings.’

‘You don’t strike me as a particularly altruistic person…’

‘Geralt…’ warned Vesemir.

‘You wound me’ she clicked her tongue, her tone devoid of all humor. ‘I have my moments’ she picked another piece of cheese to chew on. ‘But right now, you are surprisingly spot on. I need the townspeople’s trust, so I will make sure to gain it… Is there any more beer?!’

‘At once, my lady!’ the innkeeper called back, already running towards them with a pitcher. ‘I found the washtub you were asking for and the water is heating. It should be ready soon.’

‘And I appreciate that’ the woman nodded, putting a few more coins into the innkeeper’s hand.

‘Why would you want them to trust you so much?’ asked Geralt watching the innkeeper disappearing behind the counter. ‘You can always lie and they would be none the wiser.’

‘A good liar knows when a lie will not get them far. That’s where we opt for the truth. And I pride myself in being an excellent liar’ Neve picked up a piece of meat – some poultry by the looks of it – and took a bite. It was surprisingly well seasoned. ‘People are more ready to trust a healer than a mercenary so this is what I am showing them. And contrary to what you are accusing me off, I am not doing this solely for my own gain.’

‘I’m not accusing you…’ Geralt trailed off knowing that she would not believe him now. ‘You said you have a plan?’

Neve shot Vesemir a side-long glance.

‘No wonder so many young witchers don’t last long on the path’ she muttered. ‘You teach them all about every possible monster they can meet out there in the world, but forget completely about the beast that people can turn out to be’ she glanced into her tankard, suddenly thoughtful. ‘Now, before this conversation strays even further off the topic at hand. The people here don’t trust you; that much is obvious. They won’t speak with you freely. And captain Drugan clearly don’t want us here, so he won’t help you find the fiend. But the villagers will talk to me.’

‘No’ Vesemir cut in. ‘Your help is appreciated, but you will be getting in trouble with the captain. In fact you already did. And I thought that you wanted to avoid that.’

The elleth shrugged.

‘Maybe, but it was just a kid. Dugan would have hanged him had I not intervened. But, he still needs me more than I had pissed him off. Besides, if I understood correctly, you cannot interfere with human conflicts. I have no such qualms.’

‘Still, he pays you…’

‘He doesn’t. Not yet’ Neve’s lips bent into a humorless smile. ‘Even if he was, the price is for the skills he needs. Nothing else. I am still free to do as I please once my work is done. And this actually is that simple’ she added, looking back at Geralt.

‘You have a very convenient way of thinking, you know?’ he asked, sipping at his beer. ‘Almost like…’

‘Like a witcher don’t you think?’ the elleth cut in, catching them both by surprise. ‘I do what I get paid for and move on. No strings attached, not too much thinking.’

‘Yes, but’ Geralt pointed a finger at her. ‘Even witchers have rules. Guidelines that we are not willing to cross.

‘And I have my own. Survival is the ground rule. Doing whatever the hell I want comes just after that. So I will take the money from the captain, because I need them’ she finished her beer in a few long gulps. ‘But I will continue helping the villagers, because I want to. Don’t try to read too much into my motivation’ she glanced at Geralt. ‘And I will still try to help you, because I want that too’ the empty tankard hit the table with a dull clank. ‘Now, I will excuse myself. I have an early morning ahead of myself and I really don’t want all that water to go to waste’ she stood up and gazed at them with a mischievous grin. ‘You can join me, if you want’ the grin turned into an actual laugh, when they stared back at her, wide eyed. ‘You do know that I’m joking, don’t you? But the tub is going to stay in the back room if you want to use it later.’

The elleth turned and left them, her steps barely a whisper upon the floor.


	5. Chapter 5

**V**

  
Neve sighed and rubbed her forehead, before she resumed tucking away her tools and flasks.

It was a long day, longer than she thought it would be. And one she had found completely useless in terms of the task she had assigned to herself. They didn’t allow her to see the man she heard screaming. Right after the brief talk with Drugan, an armed guard walked her to the camp and watched over her as she worked.

And there was nothing strange about the wounds she treated today. Except for, perhaps, a young man that decided it would be a good idea to cut himself with his own sword. He managed to open his palm to the bone, but with careful stitches and plenty of exercise he should be able to retain the mobility of his hand.

Good for him. A soldier unable to use his sword was as good to the empire as a lame horse.

At least they gave them dinner. Neve looked up from her work to the boy sitting at the small stool next to the entrance. He nodded off some time ago, but she decided against waking him up. She told him to meet her at the inn at first light and he was there, waiting for her when she came down to the common room. He was also a rather clever child; within two hours, he learned enough to hand her vials and tools with almost no mistakes. So she didn’t ask when was the last time he ate a full meal, even as she watched him devouring stew and bread with a fervor of a starved dog.

Some things, one was better not knowing.

‘Baltt’ she addressed, hanging a leather satchel across her shoulder. ‘Wake up.’

The boy flinched, and blinked, rubbing quickly at his eyes.

‘Yes, m’lady? Do you need anything?’ he scrambled off the stool and came over to her.

The elleth offered him a smile, reaching out and brushing some hair away from his eyes.

‘No we are done for today. Come, I walk you home. We don’t want those gentleman to see you running around without supervision…’ she glanced at the guard that watched her now. She was fairly certain that he didn’t know common, because he didn’t say a word from the moment he came to relieve her previous escort unless one of his fellow soldiers addressed him. Neve wasn’t going to admit that she knew their language. Not yet anyway. She still hoped that one of these men will run his mouth in front of her and reveal something of interest.

Today however, she was returning to the inn empty-handed.

She waited until the gates closed behind them and they were left alone on the road leading downhill. From this far away the town, bathed in the glow of the setting sun, looked a bit more approachable.

‘Ballt?’ she started as they resumed their trek towards the village.

‘Yes, m’lady?’

‘First of all, my name is Neve and you are welcome to use it, as long as there is no nilfgaardian watching us’ the elleth said with a smile. ‘Now tell me; is there a place around here where you go to gather herbs?’

She didn’t miss the flash of a wide-eyed fear that flickered across his face, before the boy swallowed and spoke:

‘There is a meadow… and a place in the forest. My mother used to go there. She took me sometimes…’

‘And she doesn’t anymore? Why?’

Baltt glanced at her, as if pondering if he can tell her the truth. Then he sighed and looked at the ground beneath their feet.

She must have passed his little test.

‘It’s not safe there… Evil things live in the forest now…People go out and don’t come back…’

Neve crouched so she could meet his eyes a little easier.

‘You mean monsters? You know that I have friends here that can help you right?’

‘It’s dangerous out there…’ the boy argued, clearly not convinced.

‘And they are witchers. You know who witchers are?’ she smiled, when he shook his head. ‘They are warriors. Warriors who defend us from things that we cannot defend ourselves against. I am sure that they can help you with whatever troubles this city. Now, run along; your mother is surely waiting for you. And don’t forget to give her the herbs I prepared for Litka.’

Ballt looked at her with eyes that were far too smart to belong to a ten-year-old.

‘And what are you going to do?’

She could lie. But she was actually impressed by the fact that he sensed that she was planning something.

‘I am going for a walk. See if I can find some herbs that I need. From what I know, you don’t have an herbalist here.’

‘But you can’t! I told you that the forest is dangerous!’

‘Don’t worry, I know how to take care of myself. And if need be, I can run very, very fast’ she grinned, reaching to her pocket and pulling out three crowns. ‘Give them to your mother’ she handed him the coins. ‘Tell her it’s for taking away her child for the better part of the day. And be sure that I will check’ she added, gently patting him on the cheek.

Neve straightened and continued down the path, towards the forest visible in the distance.

It wasn’t long before she heard the patter of feet and Baltt caught up with her.

‘I told you to go home.’

‘But you can’t go alone!’ the boy protested. ‘You don’t know the land; you will get lost. And then no amount of running will help you.’

As much as the boy’s audacity amused her, his words gave Neve a brief pause. But now, that her stocks were not only for the use of herself and Geralt, she will quickly run out of both ingredients and tinctures. And she would rather go and risk meeting with a monster than ask Drugan for assistance. She didn’t want to give him anything else to use against her.

She flinched, when Ballt took her hand in his.

‘Come’ he said. ‘I know shortcuts so we won’t have to stay too long. And I can show you which direction to run.’

‘Your parents won’t be pleased if they’ll find out.’

The boy’s face split into a cheeky grin.

‘Oh, father will be more angry if I won’t help you. You saved Litka after all. Come now!’ he tugged her forward again. ‘We need to be quick if we want to be back before sunset!’

Neve couldn’t help but smile in return. And then she allowed Ballt to drag her downhill and towards the forest.

  
  
The woods were just as damp as every other place in Velen. Away from the beaten paths, it was as easy to find a solid stretch of land as it was to end up in the traitorous bog. Alders, poplars and ash trees, grew in loose groups surrounded by thin bushes and clumps of tall, hard grass or reeds is spots where the ground was particularly wet.

Neve found some mushrooms and roots that could be of use to her, but fresh leaves and flowers were hard to come by. Soon enough she won’t have that problem anymore; whenever she looked, she was greeted by the swollen buds, ready to burst with flowers and leaves at any given moment.

Baltt was sticking close to her, but he was clearly more at ease than she had expected him to be. He was finding paths and jumping across the streams with all the grace of someone who was born and raised in these lands, however short his years might be.

The setting sun filled the forest with a deep, orange glow, bringing to mind a raging fire. Neve listened carefully, but except for the birds and the occasional sound of frightened deer, she heard nothing. Nothing that could announce trouble. And yet, her hand stayed at the hilt of her sword.

Last time, the drowner surprised her and she was lucky that she didn’t pay for it. This time she wanted to be ready. And the swamp was probably as good a place for them to live as the lake. Geralt said that they weren’t particularly picky about their habitat.

‘We are close now’ Baltt’s hushed voice pulled her from her thoughts. ‘Be careful there is a deep marsh around here. Go after me, over the stones’ he grinned at her again before he started down the gentle slope, quick as a squirrel.

‘Hey! Don’t go too far!’ she called after him. Regardless of what Geralt thought about her, she didn’t want the boy to get in trouble because of her.

At the bottom of the slope another stretch of swamp began, but Ballt seemed to know where to go. Over the fallen logs, lumps of grass and several rocks, his feet never once touched the water. Neve followed him easily, glad that they didn’t attract the attention of any monster.

The meadow was on an island rising from the bog. Behind the line of trees and bushes, shielding it from wind, laid a large, open space. Neve instantly realized that it was not a natural structure, but a garden, that someone created and cultivated, though obviously it didn’t see enough attention recently. The flowerbeds were partly overgrown with reeds and dry stems of goldenrods. But it seemed that she could get almost everything she needed here.

Neve plucked one of her knives from her belt, pulled out a linen sack from her satchel and handed both items to the boy.

‘Celandine grows along the southern side of the meadow. Fill the bag with the greenest leaves you can find. If you find some flowers throw them in too, dry or otherwise. Do you know how to handle a knife?’ she asked, noticing how he weighted the handle in his palms.

‘Of course’ Baltt sounded offended. ‘I gutted fish and skinned rabbits before. I’m wondering if you will let me keep it.’

Neve reached and tousled his hair again.

‘Maybe I will’ she smiled. ‘If you behave. Now get to work. And be careful; the blade is very sharp.’

Baltt grinned and dashed towards the celandine bushes. Neve watched him for a moment, before she kneeled next to an arenaria bush and started to shift through branches, searching for flowers and buds.

‘Tell me Baltt’ she started after a while. ‘How do you live here?’

There was a curious moment of silence.

‘What do you mean?’ he asked back, eyeing her warily.

‘You know what I mean’ she replied, offering him a shrug. ‘I can see that people are afraid of something. Are the black ones giving you so much trouble?’

She expected him to flinch and remain quiet. Instead he looked her over, clearly suspicious.

She could admire such a quick thinking in a child.

‘But… you work for them…’

‘That I do’ she nodded, looking through a clump of yarrow. ‘People sometimes have to do things they’d rather wouldn’t do otherwise. If I turned down offers like that I would go hungry, you know?’

Baltt nodded.

‘I don’t like them any more than you do. I just… Don’t have a choice sometimes. Now, talk. Is captain Drugan such an asshole to everyone, or just to random travelers?’

The boy smiled in response to her curse, but just as quickly sobered.

‘He is…’ he hesitated briefly. ‘He is a bad man. He tells men to bring him wheat and whatever we have in our stores and then he beats them, when they say that they won’t have the food to feed their families if they give him what he wants. He is beating children too… I wasn’t the only one flogged and you don’t even have to steal to earn a couple of lashes…’ the boy looked around as if expecting someone to eavesdrop.

Neve stood up and was by his side in a few strides. She crouched next to him and stroked his cheek gently. He took in a stuttering breath.

‘A… And he hurts women too….… He orders them to come to the town hall sometimes… And then they come out crying… Some… some don’t come out at all.’

Neve felt her hand clenching into fist against her tight. She heard a creak of her leather glove. Then she reached and wrapped her arms around the boy’s shaking shoulders.

‘Shhh… shh…’ she ran her hand down his back. ‘Calm down. You don’t have to say anything else…’

Baltt stepped away from her, his eyes wet.

‘He is a worse monster than the forest devil is… You said you have friends that kill monsters. Then kill him!’

She killed people before. She even got paid for it. And someone like Drugan she would have gladly killed free of charge. But there were consequences to think about. If Nilfgaard hears, that its captains are dropping like flies in their freshly conquered provinces, they will send here more soldiers. And plenty more people will die, not only those responsible for the crime.

‘Witchers don’t kill people’ she said, resting her hands on his shoulders. ‘They defend them. They hunt for monsters like… like your forest devil. This is why they came here…’

Something screeched in the bushes and Neve felt chill running down her spine. It wasn’t a drowner. Still the elleth rose to her feet, pulling out her sword and placing herself in front of Baltt.

There was that screech again, this time sounding almost like a cruel laugh.

‘What was that?’ the boy muttered.

‘Quiet now’ the elleth firmed her stance and pointed her sword towards the clump of bushes. ‘Whatever happens, stay behind me…’

The monster sprang from the undergrowth, cutting her off. Smaller than a drowner with fleshy, loose skin and eyes burning like a pair of coals above the grotesquely curved maw. A nekker. Neve saw some before, when Geralt and Vesemir went to destroy their nest in exchange for a supper and a place to stay the night, but they were already dead.

One shouldn’t be much of a challenge, even if she wasn’t a witcher.

The beast screeched and charged, but aborted the attack as soon as the elleth took a step forward and swiped at it with her sword. It sat there for a second, blinking. And Neve lashed out, using its moment of hesitation.

It’s head didn’t even hit the ground when there was a rustle in the bushes and two more creatures emerged into a clearing.

She heard Baltt yelping behind her.

Neve breathed and kept herself firmly between the boy and the monsters. She should be able to defeat two more.

There was more rustling, and more screeching. Nekkers were coming out from the bushes all around them circling them like a pack of wolves. Neve took a step back, pressing Baltt against her side, looking around. If only she could find an opening, than maybe they will be able to escape…

One of the nekkers leapt from his spot, claws ready to swipe at her. She countered, slashing it across the chest and watched as it fell to the ground with a yelp. She barely turned around, when another two creatures jumped at them. Neve only had enough time to grab Baltt and curl around him.

Something barreled into her, sending them into the nearby arenaria bush. Neve heard screams and the sound of blade scraping over bone.

First thing she saw when she glanced up were Geralt’s white hair. And a nekker, landing on his back.

Baltt screamed, curling into her side.

Vesemir appeared as if out of nowhere. The beast’s head came clean off and the old witcher landed softly next to them.

After that it was quick. Nekkers had no chance against two witchers and soon enough silence once again settled over the meadow.

Neve lifted herself to her knees and then stood up, pulling the boy with her.

‘Thank you’ she said, looking at the two witchers. ‘It’s good that you found us, before we ended as their dinner…’

Vesemir glanced at her and Neve felt the hair at the back of her neck prickling.

‘What are you doing here?’ his tone was harsh.

The elleth bit her tongue and dropped her eyes to the ground.

‘Restacking my supplies’ she felt Baltt tugging at her gambeson, but she ignored it. ‘Nilfgaardians use their own medicines and I don’t have the time, nor the will to learn now…’ she felt the tug again and glanced down at the boy. ‘What now?’

Instead of responding, he just pointed his chin towards Geralt. Neve glanced up and saw blood, trickling down the front of Geralt’s jacket.

She pushed past Vesemir, pulling a piece of cloth from the satchel at her hip as she went.

‘Again?’

‘It’s nothing’ Geralt shrugged, but made no move to step away when she touched the torn leather and started to work on the buckles of his jacket.

He did wince when he reached to sheath his sword. Barely a movement at all, she probably only noticed it, because she stood mere inches away from him.

‘Oh, give it here’ she grabbed the weapon before he could object and put it away for him. ‘You will only tear that slash further if you move too much’ she opened his jacket and pulled the shirt aside, revealing three deep scratches. She pressed the cloth against it, before putting his left hand over it.

‘Keep the pressure’ she told him. ‘I will clean it once we will make it back to the inn. Can we finish this conversation away from this blasted place?’ she asked, turning back to Vesemir.

‘You three go on ahead’ the old witcher nodded. ‘There must be a nest somewhere near and it needs to be destroyed if you plan on coming here again. Just maybe with an escort this time’ he added, once again making her feel like a scolded child.

She wasn’t going to pretend that coming here was the smartest idea she ever had.

Neve put her hand on Baltt’s shoulder and marched away, stopping only briefly so Geralt could catch up with them.


	6. Chapter 6

**VI**

  
Neve rinsed the piece of cloth in the steaming bowl sitting between Geralt’s feet and squeezed the water out, reaching out to wipe at the wounds again. Nekker’s claws dug deep into his pectoral muscle and were torn out when Vesemir cut off the beast’s head shredding the skin and muscle.

  
There was a distinct sound of shuffling behind her and Neve bit her lip to stop her grin from turning too wide.

  
Instead of returning to the inn, they were found by Baltt’s father, Nimir, and hastened into the house of Goran. The man became a reeve after the previous one was hanged by the nilfgaardians – he was a tall, burly man of little words and happened to be the town’s blacksmith as well. Baltt took his father to the inn then, to bring her supplies and returned before she could even boil the water. Shortly after that, the boy snuck out, returning shortly with Vesemir in tow. Once there was no need for their further presence, he and Nimir left to avoid being found outside of their home past nightfall.

  
Now, the old witcher sat behind the table, sipping at the tankard of beer and the reeve shifted behind her back uncomfortably, as if unsure where to begin.

  
Neve felt the wounded area again, still surprised that Geralt could apparently kill the instinct to recoil from the intrusive touch.

  
‘This will need stitches’ she declared, pushing herself to her feet. ‘If we leave the wounds open, they will never close in this spot’ she added walking towards the table, where she had her equipment on display.

  
Or rather they would leave the ugly, bulky scars behind and she thought that Geralt had enough of those already covering him.

  
Geralt didn’t argue with her on this, which was quite a surprise. Maybe he didn’t want to do this in front of Vesemir and the man they barely knew.

  
Or maybe, he finally decided that arguing was never going to end in his favor anyway.

  
Neve found the sewing kit and put aside some bandages. When she glanced up, she saw Vesemir turning her pair of silver scissors in his hands. She gently plucked the instrument from his fingers.

  
‘Not only witchers know about the many qualities of silver’ she said with a smile. ‘Now, I thought you wanted to talk with us’ she glanced at the reeve, making her way back to Geralt. ‘About the forest devil, if I am not mistaken.’

  
She threaded the curved needle and bent over Geralt’s shoulder.

  
Goran hummed and shuffled his feet again, looking up at her uncertainly.

  
‘Maybe we should wait until you are done… my lady?’

  
‘Don’t be ridiculous. This is a flesh that needs stitching, not your torn sock… I need time to do this properly. So, talk.’

  
‘But…’

  
‘But we don’t have time for this’ the elleth looped the thread, making a neat stitch and cut the excess off.

  
‘She is right, you know?’ Vesemir interjected. ‘You won’t have a better occasion than this. We can help you solve your troubles…’

  
‘No, you cannot’ Goran interrupted, looking into the fire burning in the small hearth. ‘But you can kill the forest devil. That would be one trouble less for us… But I heard that you were dealing with the black… the Nilfgaardians already…’

  
‘Tell me Goran’ Neve cut in, not lifting her eyes from Geralt’s wound. ‘How’s Bogna’s wrist?’

  
The reeve shuffled even more, surprised by the sudden sharpness in her tone.

  
‘Much better my lady’ he replied. She could feel his eyes on her. ‘She is saying there is no tremors in her fingers and that the pain is mostly gone.’

  
Neve looked up at him and smiled, puzzling the man even further.

  
‘That’s good to hear. She will get a full use of that hand back, once the bones have mended. Please tell us about the forest devil. They’ve already cleared your garden of nekkers’ she gestured at Vesemir. ‘They can help you with that too…’

  
Goran’s expression darkened for a moment, before he glanced at his feet.

  
‘But we don’t have the money to pay you…’

  
‘Captain Drugan has them’ she interrupted. ‘And he already promised to pay us. I intend to make sure that he does. We do not wish to take from you what we can clearly see you do not have.’

  
The frown on the reeve’s face smoothed a little. Maybe he still did not fully trust them, but at least some of his reservations were now gone.’

  
‘A damn big beast that one is. Has great horns like a stag and a lot of thick, red fur. It first appeared in the woods on the southern side of the town. Attacked a group of men gathering wood. Only one managed to escape. He told us what it looked like after he was drunk enough to talk about what happened. Nobody else had seen him and lived’ Goran looked into the fire again. ‘We started to avoid that place in the woods and it helped, for a time. Then it killed three women that went to do the laundry. Now it attacks everywhere.’

  
‘How many people have died?’ Vesemir prompted.

  
‘We are nearing twenty, but only because people are too scared to set foot within the forest and don’t go there unless they must.’

  
The old witcher seemed surprised.

  
‘Twenty people and nobody had thought to seek out help before? Even for Nilfgaardians it would mean less people to work…’

  
‘They murdered at least twice as many, so I don’t think that they care about the beast killing the rest of us’ the reeve shook his head. ‘You don’t know how we live here and I don’t expect you to understand, but if you can, than kill the monster.’

  
Neve wanted to ask which one, but bit her tongue and focused on the wound she was stitching. There was no point in revealing what she had learned from Baltt yet. Goran was afraid, so he would likely deny it. And both Vesemir and Geralt already disliked the captain enough. Adding fuel to that fire certainly wouldn’t be helping anyone.

  
‘We will take care of that, do not worry’ she heard Vesemir saying. ‘Is there someone willing to show us the pace where the beast was first sighted?’

  
‘I can go there with you in the morning…’

  
‘Bad idea’ the elleth couldn’t help but interrupt. ‘You are the reeve. People are looking to you for protection and Nilfgaardians are watching you, probably more than anyone else. You should stay away from us, if possible.’

  
Nobody was apparently willing to argue with that. Neve finished with the first scratch and moved to stitch another.

  
‘Maybe Tomil?’ Goran said after a moment of silence. ‘He is one of our hunters. And a bold one too. He might agree. I will talk with him in the morning and send him to meet you at the inn…’

  
‘No, not at the inn’ Geralt objected, picking up on what Neve left unsaid. ‘The road that passes the inn runs further east, near the forest. An old crooked willow grows at the edge of the woods there. Tell him to wait for us there and stay hidden. We will find him.’

  
‘I will do that’ the reeve nodded. ‘Now, I know that it is not much to offer, but if you need your gear repaired or your swords sharpened…’

  
There was a clatter outside and the door burst open. Baltt tumbled inside, landing on his hands and knees, but just as quickly scrambled up and bolted across the room, to hide behind Neve and Geralt.

  
‘The black ones…’ he wheezed, breathless. ‘They are checking the houses again… and they will be here soon…’

  
‘Go to the kitchen boy’ Goran barked, his face turning grey. ‘And don’t you dare make a sound…’

  
Baltt nodded and scurried away, disappearing behind the door that lead to the second room. The reeve looked at them and sighed, squaring his shoulder.

  
‘We will have to deal with this somehow. There is no point in you leaving; they will see you anyway…’

  
‘We are not doing anything against the law anyway…’ Vesemir muttered, standing up.

  
Neve stopped herself from pointing out that it did not matter either way. Not to them.

  
She still tensed at the heavy sound of armored feet, approaching the house.

  
Three soldiers stepped through the already opened door, their black armor gleaming the light coming from the fire. For a moment they seemed a little thrown off by the presence of strangers in the house. Then they looked over each other with barely concealed glee.

  
‘Gatherings after nightfall are prohibited’ announced the tallest of the three men, not bothering with common.

  
‘Outside!’ ordered another and Neve wondered, if this was the only word he knew in common speech. It certainly sounded like that. ‘Outside!’

  
They stepped further into the room, causing Goran to take a few steps back. She could feel Geralt tensing next to her, ready to launch. From the corner of her eye she could see Vesemir rolling his shoulders to make sure that his sword lies correctly across his back.

  
One wrong move and there will be blood, she was sure about it.

  
Goran, using a curious mix of nilfgaardian and common, tried to explain the situation, taking an uncertain step towards the soldiers.

  
A slap from a hand in a heavily armored glove sent him tumbling to the ground for his efforts.

  
‘Shut up!’ that same soldier barked, proving that he at least knew a whole two words more. ‘Outside! All of you!’

  
He made a move to kick the laying man for the good measure and Neve felt something inside her snap.

  
‘Enough!’ she growled, causing all three of the guards to jump. She could feel everyone’s eyes on her. Somehow, it gave her the confidence to continue.

  
‘You will not hurt that man any further’ she sneered, walking around Geralt and towards the soldiers. They just stood there, blinking, completely floored by the fact that they understood her.

  
The elleth relished in their shock for a moment.

  
‘Step away from him’ she demanded harshly and, to her further pleasure, the guard did just that. ‘We are not doing anything wrong. My companion was wounded and the reeve offered us his house as it was closer than the inn…’

  
‘He knows that meetings after nightfall are prohibited…’

  
‘It was still daylight when he invited us in’ she interrupted him. She couldn’t allow them to argue with her. ‘He is a blacksmith. He doesn’t know how long it takes to stitch the wound and I have not even finished yet’ she added, nodding towards Geralt. ‘He is not at fault here. You can wait outside until I’m done and then you can escort us to the inn if that’s what you must do, but I will not allow any further violence.’

  
For a moment, the soldiers looked at each other, clearly unsure of what to do. The one with itchy hands, turned and stalked towards her.

  
The dark expression on his face did not impress her in the slightest.

  
Idiot. He didn’t realize that it was their lives she was trying to save.

  
Neve glared at the approaching man and folded her hands behind her back, feeling the small, hidden blade slipping from underneath her vambrace and straight into her palm.

  
If he thought, that he could treat her like he treated Goran and not suffer for it, than he was in for a nasty surprise.

  
‘You think you are the smart one? All I hear is barking, you half-blood bitch’ he snarled, reaching to grab her.

  
She heard a telling wheeze of blades being drawn.

  
‘What is the meaning of this?’ another voice cut in, before either of the witchers could strike the guard down. As everyone turned towards the newcomer, Neve made a quick work of sliding the blade back into its hiding spot.

  
Her first, ridiculous, thought as she turned to face the nilfgaardian, was that he could be Drugan’s younger, prettier brother.

  
‘Lieutenant!’ the guard that was first to speak was also the first to get his voice back. ‘They cannot be here…!’

  
‘As I see it’ the man interrupted them, glancing at the bleeding gash on Geralt’s chest. ‘They have a reason to be here. While you had absolutely no reason to treat an innocent man like that’ ignoring the two, tensed witchers with drawn blades, he approached Goran and offered him a hand.

  
The blacksmith, much to Neve’s surprise, allowed the nilfgaardian to help him.

  
‘Your work for today is done’ the lieutenant turned to look at his men with barely concealed disapproval. ‘Return to the camp immediately. I will make sure that those three will find their way to the inn.’

  
The three guards, knowing better than to argue with the direct order from their superior, clicked their heels and left the house. The nilfgaardian lieutenant looked between the four of them again, quickly focusing his attention on the elleth, going as far as offering her a proper bow.

  
‘I apologize for their behavior, my lady’ he said speaking pleasant, though heavily accented common. ‘I am afraid, that they are not getting reprimanded enough for such an uncouth behavior.’

  
‘It is rather obvious that something like this is… largely acceptable’ Neve said carefully, looking at either of the witchers. Vesemir was first to sheathe his sword. ‘Thank you for getting rid of them, my lord’ she said, offering the man a shallow bow. ‘Though I would really like to know who I am thanking… I don’t believe that we had the chance to be introduced.’

  
‘Please forgive me, my lady’ he replied, smiling. ‘Manfred von Syrge, lieutenant of Twelfth Infantry Brigade. I have the… misfortune of being captain Drugan second in command.’

  
Neve watched him for a second, unsure what to do with such a declaration. She felt more than heard movement in the room and she knew that the witchers were now standing right behind her.

  
Goran was first to break the silence, as he walked across the room to close the still open door.

  
‘Massy is a decent sort’ the reeve said, turning to face them. ‘He helps us as much as he can.’

  
Both of his lips were split from the hit he received. Blood dribbled slowly into his dark beard. He noticed Neve staring at him and simply shook his head, wiping at the bloodied skin beneath his lips.

  
‘It’s nothing I wouldn’t be used to, my lady’ the reeve shrugged. ‘Please finish tending to your friend so we can conclude this business and spend the rest of the night in peace.’

  
‘And what about the boy?’ the elleth asked, gently pushing Geralt towards the stool he previously occupied.

  
‘I am fairly certain that Bogna has already fed him’ the blacksmith smiled despite the discomfort it surely must have caused. ‘He will sleep here tonight and I will sent him over to you in the morning.’

  
Neve glanced at the nilfgaardian briefly, before shaking her head.

  
‘No. Tell him to go straight home and don’t show his face in town for a few days. I have no idea what a child could do to deserve such a special attention from the nilfgaardian army, but they obviously look for any pretext to follow with their threats and I am not sure if I’ll be able to protect him again. Not if the guards saw him running here today…’

  
‘I am not sure if you showing up in the camp is such a good idea either, my lady’ Manfred interrupted her once again, gathering the attention of the rest of the occupants in the room. ‘You have not told the captain that you understand our language. And while I wasn’t going to mention that to anyone, those three has likely went straight to him…’

  
‘Anyone who knows Elder Speech, should have no trouble learning your speech. Those two are not that different’ the elleth declared with a shrug. ‘If the captain will find my knowledge displeasing, I can come up with enough proof of my ties to the empire to discourage him from thinking that I am an enemy spy…’ she could feel Geralt’s stare on her face but she chose to ignore it. ‘Besides there is hardly a cleaner evidence of me being one, than a sudden disappearance. Captain will surely turn his attention to my friends here then, and they don’t need any… unnecessary distractions.’

  
‘Neve…’ Vesemir started. The woman turned to look at him and smiled.

  
‘I’ll be fine’ she said with much more confidence than she felt. ‘I have my ways of dealing with people like Drugan’ she pulled her focus back to the work at hand. ‘But it would be good for anyone involved, if you would deal with the beast quickly so we could get the hell out of here…’

  
Preferably before someone ends up dead or permanently maimed.

  



	7. Chapter 7

**VII**

  
When she spotted two guards waiting for her at the gates of the camp, where there were previously only one, Neve knew there will be trouble. She knew better than to expect that the way she spoke and acted last night will remain a secret, however she had to give some credit to Drugan – for a man who liked to be in control of the situation so much, he proved to be rather patient as well. She half expected to be dragged from the bed this morning and yet, he had allowed her both, the sleep and the comfort of a full stomach, before sending guards to fetch her.

  
And he was even subtle enough to not send them directly to the inn.

  
She imagined it would not sit well with her witcher companions.

  
It would be enough to lull the caution in most people. It could be enough to keep her from suspecting anything, if she hadn’t been proven, again and again, that betrayal could come in many forms. And often from the least expected angle.

  
And Drugan wasn’t a person she even remotely trusted.

  
Fingers curling around the strap of her bag, she closed the remaining distance between herself and the two, armored men.

  
‘If you two are here to take me to captain Thurn’ she said in nilfgaardian. ‘Then can we go immediately.’

  
As much as she enjoyed listening to them stumbling over common whenever they were speaking to her, she wasn’t looking forward to what was going to happen next and just wanted to be done.

  
‘Hand over your weapons and follow us’ one of the guards demanded after exchanging looks with his companion. ‘Captain Thurn is waiting for you inside.’

  
He probably felt more powerful surrounded by his own, armed men.

  
She obediently unbuckled her weapon belt and handed it over to the soldier. Her lips twitched, the movement barely perceptible, when they demanded her bag as well, but did search her for any concealed weapons.

  
If only they knew.

  
The gate groaned and opened, allowing them to pass through. Neve marched between the two soldiers with her eyes demurely cast down, more for show than anything else. She only glanced up when her guards stopped and one of them pushed her forward, straight into the commander’s tent.

  
The tent flap fell, bathing the inside of the tent in deep shadows. Neve’s eyes adjusted quickly and she faced Drugan, sitting behind an ornate desk. His eyes bore into hers with a quiet intensity, but he made no other move to acknowledge her. Neve returned the stare, taking a few steps forward, but refusing to open her mouth.

  
If she’d start talking now, she might have as well pledge guilty.

  
A fleeting smile flashed across his lips, before he rose from his seat and crossed the room to stand just a few paces away from her.

  
‘I have heard the most interesting thing last night’ he said, not bothering with common. ‘I almost refused to believe my soldiers, but they were adamant even after I threatened them with flogging…’ there was a familiar glint in his eyes. The same one she had seen there at the prospect of tormenting a child.

  
Neve didn’t pull her eyes away.

  
‘Flogging would be unjust’ she replied, watching his eyes narrow at the sound of his native tongue. Before she could open her mouth again, Drugan backhanded her across the face.

  
Her lip burst beneath the heavy rings he wore, but it wasn’t what filled her mouth with a sticky sweetness. She ignored the taste, hoping that the blow hadn’t knocked out a tooth as well.

  
‘You dare,’ Drugan growled, leaning into her. ‘Come here under the guise of a healer to spy on the nilfgaardian army?!’

  
Neve felt the blood dribbling down her chin, but didn’t reach up to wipe it off. She stared at the man in front of her, ignoring the pulsing ache that was quickly spreading across her jaw. She wondered briefly how bad it was going to bruise.

  
‘If I wanted to spy on anything’ she spat, straightening to her full height. ‘I would have picked up a camp bigger and more important than this shithole. And I certainly wouldn’t give myself away over some bloody peasant…’

  
She was glad that she was looking down at him, even if it was only adding to his irritation.

  
‘You lied to gain access to the imperial army camp’ he continued, pretending he hadn’t heard her. ‘This in itself, would qualify you as a spy…’

  
Neve felt her face pull into a frown. Was he forcing his point across in hopes she would concede?

  
If the threat of pain hadn’t done the trick, then she could not see how words could.

  
‘I did not lie. I was in need of a job and I did not think you would have had something for a mercenary. And your men are well taken care of, are they not?’

  
Drugan’s eyes flashed with anger. Her hand snapped up and closed around his wrist before he could strike her.

  
‘I advise against hitting me again, captain’ she dug her fingers into his wrist a little harder, before releasing his hand.

  
‘I could have you executed on the spot!’ Drugan growled and she could see that he had to physically restrain himself from another assault. He certainly did not expect such a reaction from her.

  
Certainly, women he usually interacted with, had given him much more than this. Neve however wasn’t afraid of him, and wasn’t about to indulge any of his desires.

  
But she was sorely tempted to gut him on the spot.

  
‘That would be even less wise’ she said instead. ‘A few of your superiors might end up… displeased by your actions.’

  
He sneered, still unimpressed with her words.

  
‘Displeased? Who would have cared for a mutt like you?’

  
‘Not many people, I admit’ the elleth shrugged. ‘But those who know about Dunnheim Castle would at least want to know why you decided to behead a person instrumental in sacking it.’

  
She would have smiled when he recoiled from her, but she didn’t want to aggravate her aching cheek. She would have the time to gloat later.

  
‘What did you say?’

  
‘The siege of Dunnheim Castle’ she repeated, enjoying the wide-eyed surprise that was quickly replacing the angry scowl he wore earlier. ‘Not that much of a bright page in the history of the imperial military’ she allowed some of smugness she felt to bleed into her expression. ‘Breaking your teeth, time and time again, on the walls of a relatively small hold? A perfectly placed one, but small nonetheless… Until you have no other choice, but to hire a mismatched group of mutts and non-humans to do the job for you… Though if I am to be honest, general Tibor Eggerbracht did not quite share your distaste for us…’

  
She could see a flash of realization in Drugan’s eyes and barely stopped herself from grinning before continuing:

  
‘Wait he, unfortunately, perished at the battle of Brenna. However, one of his subordinates, Ulfrid von Behve is still quite alive and well, despite the nasty wound he sustained during the siege.’

  
Drugan looked away from her for the first time, his eyes running over the walls of his tent as he struggled for an answer. Neve simply watched him, enjoying his discomfort.

  
He wasn’t as careful in his acting this time, smiling broadly when he finally grasped at something he had said.

  
‘General Ulfrid von Behve has no ties to the Alba Division anymore…’

  
‘Obviously’ she agreed. ‘I can imagine how a permanent limp could be detrimental to such a service. A young and capable man took his place now; general Morvran Vhooris, if memory serves me right…’

  
Drugan kept silent as he watched her, an array of emotions playing across his face as he weighted his options. She wondered, if she had given him enough reasons to doubt.

  
In the same moment Drugan reached to the pocket hidden in the sleeve of his vest and offered her a handkerchief – a piece of soft, white cloth, decorated at the edges with delicate lace.

  
Neve took it, hoping that he did not notice how the gesture caught her by surprise.

  
Her blood sunk into the fabric, coloring it crimson.

  
‘I believe we came to a great misunderstanding, my lady’ he offered her a charming smile that anyone else would have deemed honest. Neve was certain that the man was still quietly fuming. As long as he wasn’t going to take his rage out on her, she was fine with letting him stew.

  
The captain walked around the desk, back to his chair, gesturing for her to take the other, standing across from him.

  
‘You do realize that we could have avoided all of this if only you had been honest with me from the start?’

  
‘Of course, captain’ she agreed, dabbing at the blood again. ‘My line of work, however’ the elleth sat down and tested her busted lip with a tip of her tongue. ‘Does not exactly allow me to be upfront with every person I meet.’

  
Drugan regarded her with a curious glance, resting his chin on his steepled fingers.

  
‘And what that line of work entails exactly?’

  
‘Doing things most people wouldn’t want to have pinned to their names and getting handsomely rewarded for it.’

  
‘Does travelling with two witchers is part of those things?’

  
‘No it’s part of me taking care of my safety. I am no stranger to fighting. But travelling these lands alone is not a wise choice for a woman. And there are things worse than a few bandits that can attack me in these swamps. We both know it’ Neve pressed the handkerchief against her lips again. ‘It is a simple matter of convenience until I settle into another, stable contract.’

  
‘Something happened to your previous one?’ Drugan asked, feigning an innocent curiosity rather well.

  
Neve had no doubt that he will sent letters to his supervisors, requesting the intelligence to check her up, as soon as she will leave his tent.

  
‘Oh the typical altercation between the group of mercenaries… It came to money as you may have already guessed’ she smiled at him. ‘I wasn’t pleased with my share, so I decided to leave and search for a job that will satisfy me more.’

  
‘Somehow, I can’t imagine that tending the injured fills that bill for you, my lady.’

  
‘No it doesn’t. But it fills my purse and it is all that really matters for me now.’

  
Drugan seemed to be impressed by her bluntness. And this time the reaction seemed genuine.

  
‘That’s understandable. And for someone with your… talents, the Empire may prove a steady source of work. Provided that you will be willing to offer your allegiance.’

  
She heard that line too many times to count, but the elleth hadn’t got the slightest idea of what this man was trying to play at given his earlier behavior. It seemed to be too far reaching to simply lull her caution. Unless he knew more than she expected him too.

  
She would have gladly found out, but if she wanted to leave the camp and not goad him into doing something she certainly wasn’t going to enjoy, she had little choice but to play into whatever he was trying to accomplish.

  
‘It is certainly an interesting prospect. I would be glad to serve the empire again, but I will have to think about it first of course…’

  
‘Of course’ captain Thurn agreed, before raising to his feet. The elleth stood up as well. ‘I hope that this misunderstanding will not influence our further cooperation’ he said, extending his hand towards it.

  
Neve took it.

  
‘It was just a misunderstanding’ she nodded with a smile. ‘Not the first one, and certainly not the last.’

  
‘I am glad’ he returned the smile. ‘Now, if you forgive me, I have duties to attend.’

  
‘Well, I hope to have some to attend myself…’

  
He dismissed her with a gracious nod.

  
She left the tent as quickly as she could without attracting too much attention. Drugan was onto something, she knew that much. And she didn’t want to stay in Vorune long enough to find out what that was.


End file.
